


The Collision Never Comes

by voleuse



Category: Castle
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-10
Updated: 2010-11-10
Packaged: 2017-10-13 14:33:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/138418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>My feet stay dry. I never get out of my car</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Collision Never Comes

**Author's Note:**

> No spoilers. Title and summary adapted from LB Sedlacek's _Accidental Dragon_.

Esposito had always struck Beckett as a latte sort of guy. No sweetener, no froth nonsense, but a good, strong latte. So when she caught him fiddling with the espresso machine at ten in the morning, it wasn't a surprise.

What was a surprise, however, was the can of whipped cream and the grocery-store-brand bottle of cinnamon.

"What are you doing?" she asked, pitching her voice to the exact level that would startle him.

Sure enough, Esposito's hand jerked, and whipped cream arced from the counter to the toes of Beckett's boots. He hastily capped the whipped cream, setting it behind him, knocking over the cinnamon.

She raised her eyebrows. "Detective?"

Esposito cleared his throat once, then smiled. "Pumpkin latte?"

She let the offer hover in the air for a moment, then turned on her heel and walked away.

*

The interrogation hadn't been going well, so Beckett left the perp in the room to stew for a while. (Castle was off doing author things, things that included models she was tired of hearing about.) She returned to her desk and shuffled through files, wondering what she could do for the next fourteen minutes, which would be about when the perp started thinking he might be there for a lot longer.

A cup of coffee appeared by her elbow, splashing only the littlest bit. Beckett looked up, a frown creasing her forehead.

"Sorry," Esposito said. "They only had Mountain Dew in the fridge, so--"

"Thanks," she said. "Found anything interesting?"

Esposito leaned his hip against her desk for half a second. She let him, for half a second, and then sat back in her chair. He cleared his throat and corrected himself, standing almost at attention.

She smiled. "What'd the insurance company say?"

Esposito extracted a notepad from his pocket, and while he reported, she sipped her coffee gratefully.

*

Two interrogations and a car chase later, Beckett returned to the office with a pizza box in hand. She dropped it onto Esposito's desk, next to a stack of invoices and phone records. "Where's Ryan?"

"Chasing down a phone in the evidence locker." Esposito stretched--something she'd only seen him do after hours--and rolled his shoulders. "We should be able to cross-check the phone log."

Beckett assessed the evidence and mentally rearranged the board. "Can you take it to the stand?"

Esposito nodded. "We could have it by tomorrow, if we needed it."

She smiled and tapped the pizza box. "Then you've earned this."

"Thanks," he said, and then he was happily grappling with a mouthful of crust.

Beckett snagged a slice for herself, and strolled over to the board to shuffle the case to its close.


End file.
